


(I can be your Dragonknight) I'd rather you be my Wolf

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Series: Jonsa Smut Week [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: And Jon is Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, F/M, Future Fic, Incest Kink, Inspired by Aemon and Naerys, Pregnancy, Sansa is Queen, So Aegon is king
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-08 02:15:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12854571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth
Summary: Aegon was only his half-brother, and in his heart his true brothers would always be Robb and Bran and Rickon, but if that were true, Sansa was still his sister. He wondered what that made him. A true Targaryen, despite the fact he'd always be a Snow? But Sansa whispered in his ear that she'd come to believe that only a Stark could truly love another Stark and his guilt and shame faded away for another couple of hours.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnowStone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowStone/gifts).



> I think you'll like this one ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Jonsa Smut Week Day 6 Forbidden, and I guess Food is featured as well, since it all started with those damned lemon cakes :')

Sansa had never asked for this. Once, a very long time ago, when she was still a soft and silly girl with a head full of songs, she'd dreamed of being Queen. But that was before she'd come to understand what it meant to marry a King, before she'd come to King's Landing for the first time. She'd told Jon so many a time, after he'd escorted her to her chambers whenever she'd had a little too much wine.

The Arbor Gold she preferred made her wistful and homesick when she had more than two cups, so she'd beg him to stay by her side and she'd gaze at him with a look in her eyes that made him uncomfortable and warm inside at the same time.

The strain of life at court affected her appetite and her cheekbones grew sharper and her frame slighter under her heavy gowns. Jon saw her pale cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes, so he resorted to telling her stories about Winterfell, even though he'd never considered himself good with words.

The night he reminded her of the time he'd covered himself in flour, pretending to be a ghost, was the first time he'd heard her laugh in many a moon.

It encouraged him to do better, try harder to bring back that lively, bright girl he remembered. It's what urged him to go down to the kitchens and order a batch of lemon cakes to be prepared. He felt half a fool carrying them up to her apartments, but he forgot about his reservations the moment her eyes lit up at the sight of the treats on the tray.

He ended up feeding her morsels of the cakes and at one point she flicked her tongue out to lick a trickle of frosting from his thumb. They probably would have ignored it, pretended it never happened, if their eyes hadn't locked in that exact same moment. But they did, so that's how it had begun.

No words had been spoken that first time. Their desperation didn't incite wild passion nor fumbling roughness, only painful tenderness which couldn't satisfy them, as they grasped to soothe an incurable ache they'd only just discovered.

Jon knew it was the most damnable act he'd ever committed.  _Bastard! Oathbreaker! Lust and lies! Lust and lies!_ the voice in his head whispered furiously. As he watched carefully however, saw how Sansa was revived by his loving touches, how could he call it a sin? Yet what else would it be, to betray his king and brother in such a way?

Aegon was only his half-brother, and in his heart his true brothers would always be Robb and Bran and Rickon, but if that were true, Sansa was still his sister. He wondered what that made him. A true Targaryen, despite the fact he'd always be a Snow? But Sansa would whisper in his ear that she'd come to believe that only a Stark could truly love another Stark and his guilt and shame faded away for another couple of hours.

Tonight he watched her again from his position at the back of the dais. Her cup of wine went untouched as she smiled courteously at the king's honoured guests. He didn't miss the way Aegon's eyes lingered on his cousin Arianne's curves nor the looks he exchanged with the Lady Margaery. His blood boiled at the sight of these slights against Sansa's honour, committed so openly and carelessly.

The voice inside his head chided him.  _You're the one dishonouring her._

Suddenly she excused herself, claiming to feel unwell. Aegon's face morphed into a polite mask of concern. She declined his suggestion to send a maester to her apartments, insisting she only needed rest. She curtsied and inclined her head to the other lords and ladies before taking her leave.

Jon followed her, ever her dutiful shadow. Sansa had quipped once there must be songs about his devotion to her by now. She'd informed him how many a maiden's eyes had glassed over as she sighed how Jon was Aemon the Dragonknight come again. He wondered if, perhaps, behind his back, he was compared to another _devoted_ brother who'd still lived not so long ago as well.

As soon as they left the Queen's Ballroom, where the small feast was taking place, she slowed down so she could loop her arm through his.  She smiled up at him and cooed: "I'm so fortunate to have a brother who takes such good care of me."

And so their dance began. The truth about his parents was not common knowledge, so to most courtiers he was still Sansa's brother, but they were alone now, there was no need for her to address him as such. She didn't fool him however. He'd discovered she found some perverse delight in calling him brother when he was moving inside of her. It shamed him greatly to admit that it didn't repulse him, but only spurred him on.

"It's my duty to protect you, My Queen," he answered after a long pause.

She raised an eyebrow. "Your duty?"

"And my pleasure," he added.

She leaned into him. Suddenly she stopped and glanced left and right. Giggling, she took both of his hands and started walking backward. Defenceless, he allowed her to pull him into an alcove behind a large tapestry. Her eyes and teeth glittered in the near-dark.

"Sansa," he warned her, voice already thick with anticipation. "We shouldn't."

"I just want to feel loved, Jon," she whispered. "Isn't that your deepest wish as well?" she added with a knowing look. "We're alike. Love me, brother."

She draped his arms around her waist and locked her own around his neck, angling her face up to kiss him. He tried to resist her, but too soon he found his entire body responding to her embrace and he felt her smile against his lips.

He let her lead, as he always did. She pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, sucking before she released it and chased his mouth again, his hands tightening on her waist, resisting the urge to retaliate.

As they parted for breath, he rested his forehead against hers, nudging her nose with his own. Her hands slid down his chest to untie his sword belt. She took a step back, challenging him, and he followed, cupping her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks as he crushed his mouth to hers.

He swallowed her pleased moan, before letting one hand slide to the nape of her neck and the other down to palm her breast through her bodice. He peppered her chin and jaw with feathery kisses before moving to the sensitive spot behind her ear.

How he wished to suck a bloom onto her neck or drag his teeth across her collarbones, but that could never be. Even in the throes of passion, they must be mindful of every touch. So when he flicked his tongue out to taste her skin, he only applied the lightest of pressure.

Her hands were loosening the ties on his breeches and smallclothes, until she could slip one in to stroke his cock into hardness. His grip on her neck tightened and he flicked his thumb over her nipple, panting. She surprised him by taking a step back and gracefully falling to her knees.

A wicked pleasure jolted through him at the sight of her kneeling before him in all her queenly finery. She glanced up at him through her thick eyelashes, before daintily wrapping her fingers around his shaft and pressing a soft kiss to the very tip.

She licked up his length, before taking him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head. He could hardly believe it. This beautiful creature, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms no less, was on her knees before him, sucking his cock. She was already driving him closer to the edge, humming around him as she took him in deeper.

But this wouldn't do. They both needed to lose themselves and now that they had an opportunity to be together, if only for a while, he wanted to make her feel good.

He gently pushed her away, helping her to her feet. When he saw her questioning look, he pulled her close, nuzzling her temple, kissed her cheek and whispered: "Lean back against the wall, My Queen."

After a quick peck to the tip of her nose, he kneeled to bury himself under her many-layered skirts. He slid his hands up the backs of her calves and thighs and kissed the warm skin just above her stockings on both sides.

He pulled her smallclothes down and helped her step out of them. He kissed the insides of her thighs again, nudging them apart and cupped one firm round arse cheek, while his other hand brushed her folds.

He nuzzled his face into her damp curls and used his fingers to spread her lips. Languidly he licked up her slit, sucking and nibbling at her lips. She tasted divine on his tongue. He could hear her moans through the layers of her skirts.

"Quiet now, sweet girl," he rumbled against her folds, which had quite the opposite effect. There was no time to draw this out, the way he would have preferred, so he latched onto her nub, feeling wetness gather in his beard as his tongue circled it.

He entered her with one finger and quickly added a second. He hummed and sucked, curling his fingers inside her and soon she was falling apart on his tongue, muffling her cries as he felt her cunny clench and flutter. He worked her through her peak and pressed his tongue flat against her.

He rose to his feet, bunching up her skirts, until he could grab one thigh and push her up against the wall, lifting her long leg over his hip so he could finally be inside of her, as close as they could ever be, yet never close enough.

Head dropping to her shoulder, he started moving at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Faster, Jon," she encouraged him, fingers digging into his shoulder blades . "Harder, please!"

He wanted to,  _Seven Hells,_ how he wanted to! But the wall was hard and rough, and she bruised so easily. "I can't," he panted against her neck. "I'll hurt you. You'll have marks on your back."

"I don't care," she assured him.

He angled his face up to kiss her jaw. "You will in the morning," he said softly, pointing his chin down. "Unclasp my cloak. You can fold it and use it to protect your back."

She followed his instructions and wrapped her legs around him. He locked her in his arms, trying to support as much of her weight as possible. Once he had her secured in a tight grip, he allowed himself to let go. He quickly lost himself in her snug wet heat.

She bit his shoulder to muffle her moans and he wished he could do the same. Instead he clenched his teeth, burying his face in her neck.

As he felt that familiar tension build, her walls tightening around him, he lifted his face until his lips were hovering over the shell of her ear. "I love you," he breathed. "Come for me, sweet sister."

His words pushed her over the edge, as he knew they would, and he followed soon after.

He held her to him, wild heartbeats and ragged breaths mingling as they both came down and she started peppering his face with kisses. "I love you, too, brother."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Jonsa Smut Week Day 7 Pregnancy, or at least, that was the plan. So this is horribly late, but here it is :')

Sansa held the blanket closer to the lamp to study the fur on the wolf she was embroidering. She picked out a lighter shade of grey to make the pattern more intricate. 

She'd been overjoyed when the maester had concluded that she was about three moons gone. Not only did it mean her dearest wish of becoming a mother would finally come true, it also confirmed her hopes that Jon had fathered the child growing inside her womb.

She was so overcome with happiness, so eager to share her news with him, that she hadn't even anticipated that Jon might not share her joy. The look in his eyes when she told him made her heart sink into her stomach like a massive chunk of ice. 

She hadn't talked to him since, apart from sharing some customary greetings when necessary. Despite it only having been about a fortnight, the loneliness made it feel as if several moons had passed. To make matters worse, now that her sickness had passed, she'd developed a hunger for him which she was able to keep in check for most of her waking hours, but became impossible to ignore at night.

She dreamed of his hands and his mouth all over her body every night, of having him inside of her and she awoke panting and wet, her hand often already having found its way down between her thighs. Just thinking about it brought a flush to her cheeks. While she enjoyed their couplings and no man had ever made her feel good the way Jon could, she'd always told herself that was not what their love was about.

Arya was still alive, ruling Winterfell and the North, but down here, Jon was the only family she had left. Both of their hearts had been too damaged to express the love and the need to be loved in any other way than with their bodies, so that's how it was.

Yet now these unladylike carnal desires were taking over her mind whenever it wasn't occupied by her sorrow, only burdening her even more when it returned. She put her needlework aside and put on a light cloak to leave her apartments through one of the secret tunnels.

She crossed the drawbridge to the lower courtyard, making her way to White Sword Tower. The lower floors were abandoned, the other members of the King's Guard on duty or asleep in their sleeping cells. She ascended the staircase to the Lord Commander's apartments with a steady tread. 

She entered Jon's solar without knocking, finding him bent over some map. He rubbed his neck as he looked up, face tensing as his eyes took her in. For a long moment they stared at each other, before she closed the door and crossed the distance between them, leaving only the desk separating them, the desk on which the babe growing inside her had probably been conceived.

He averted his eyes, fists clenched by his sides. She could be brave, she could face his wall of silence and break it down, slowly and gently. She took a deep breath. "I know you are vexed with me... But for the love I hope you still bear for me, can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

He blinked at her slowly, lips parting before he walked around the table, eyes on his feet, murmuring: "I- it's not..." He looked up, his eyes hard.  "Did you plan this?"

"No," she answered without hesitating, holding his gaze. "Truth be told, I was starting to doubt whether I was able to bear children. It's been two years since the wedding..." She'd half feared, half hoped Aegon might be considering taking another wife, perhaps even putting her aside.

He nodded. "It's myself I can't forgive," he confessed. "What if anyone finds out? I've condemned our child thrice over... A bastard, always at risk, the living proof of our-" he choked on his own voice.

"No, no, it won't be like..." She let her voice trail off, cupping his face in both of her hands and peppering it with kisses, nuzzling his cheek and letting him rest his forehead against hers. "It's better this way," she assured him. "Aegon has too much dragon blood running through his veins. Our child will be more Stark than Targaryen. He will never succumb to the madness..." 

He lifted his chin, meeting her eyes. "He?"

She only offered him a cautious smile in response, letting her head drop to his shoulder and whispered: "Please don't abandon me now, brother."

"Never," he declared.

She tilted her head up, kissing her way up to his mouth. For a moment he stayed still under her touch, until his arms snaked around her waist and he moaned into her mouth. She parted her lips in response, allowing herself to get drunk on the feeling of his kiss.

She lifted her hands to run her fingers through his hair and he pulled her closer, hands on the small of her back.

"The High Septon told Aegon he should refrain from visiting my bed from now on," she muttered with her hands in his hair. "There's no need anymore and it's supposed to be bad for the babe."

Jon released her with a sharp breath. She grabbed his hands as he retracted them, lacing their fingers together. She shook her head, chuckling lightly. "But Val says that's horse shit. Sam agrees that it wouldn't hurt the babe, unless there are complications..."

His face had pulled into a frown. "Why are you telling me this?"

She beamed at him. "I'm telling you this to inform you you'll be the only man who gets to see me naked for the next couple of moons." She kissed his chin, nipping it lightly, and breathed: "Take me to bed, Jon."

He held her by the upper arms, keeping her at a distance. She studied his face and could practically hear the voices in his head arguing. She clenched her teeth, closing her eyes for a moment, before reaching up to cup his cheek, softly stroking his beard.

His eyes softened and he nodded, pulling her closer again. HIs lips covered hers and he kissed her with an unfamiliar frenzy. A salty drop trickled between their mouths and she chased it back, wordlessly kissing the tears from his cheeks.

He led her to the small bedroom, never letting go of her, and closed the door behind them. She took her time undressing for him, letting him help with the laces. He hadn't seen her completely naked since their first night together.

She felt rather than saw his eyes taking her in, before he lifted a hand to trace the underside of her breast. She hissed as he squeezed it, flicking a calloused thumb over her nipple. "Gently, they're quite tender now," she warned him.

His hand slid down, joined by the other, cupping her tiny bump. The tenderness of his gestures brought her close to tears, but she was still hungry for his touch, so she slipped her hands under his tunic, urging him to remove it before her fingers started working on the lacings of his breeches.

She looked her fill, a bit startled at the sight of the scars on his chest for a moment, before she launched herself into his arms. He was warm and hard and soft all over at the same time and his hands were everywhere, exploring and caressing, as were her own, mapping all the lines of his body as they kissed.

He walked her back to the bed and lifted her onto it, advancing until she was lying against the pillows, sighing at the feel of his body over hers. He braced himself on his forearms, leaning down to kiss her, and her hands curled into his hair.

His mouth travelled down to her neck, lips brushing her skin as softly as ever. She mewled as his mouth closed over her right nipple, the feeling almost too much to bear. He moved to her left breast to give it the same treatment, before he started licking and sucking at the skin just below. 

'That tickles," she tittered, and a surprised cry escaped from her lips, pulling his curls when his mouth sent a sharp pang through her skin.

He lifted his head and his eyes had gone almost completely black, just a sliver of grey remaining at the very edge. He licked his lips, which curled into a wicked grin.

She pushed herself up, twisting her upper body to see. There was a dark red spot on her ribs, right below her left breast, a small purple star in the middle. A jolt of pleasure shot straight to her core at the sight of him marking her as his.

His lips caressed her skin, tongue flicking into her navel, as his hands grabbed her hips. He took his time, peppering her belly, hipbones and mound with kisses. He continued on the insides of her thighs, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips when his teeth nipped at the soft flesh there.

Her hips arched off the bed when he licked up her slit and by the time his tongue touched her pearl, she almost burst out of her skin. She turned her head to muffle her cries with his pillow, her entire body pulled taut as a bow string until an explosion of white stars lit up her vision and she slumped back into the mattress, rolling onto her side.

Jon positioned his body behind hers, wrapping his arm around her waist. He dragged his lips along her neck and shoulders as her breathing returned to normal. She leaned back into him, enjoying the warmth of his naked skin against hers.  

Panting, he dropped his forehead to her shoulder as she started grinding her arse against his hard manhood. She shifted her hips and his hand slid down her leg, grabbing her ankle to lift her foot up on his thigh. She felt the tip of him prodding her entrance and he pushed forward, making them groan in unison.

With every stroke, his cock rubbed that sweet spot deep inside of her. She started undulating her hips, her breath coming out in short shallow gasps and he stilled, letting her set the pace. It was lovely and sweet, being with him like this, finally skin on skin, but she needed more. "I want you to be rough with me, Jon," she breathed. "We should fuck like the wolves we are tonight."

His hips bucked of their own accord before he croaked out: "What- what about the babe?"

"Don't fret, my love, it won't hurt him."

She felt him hesitate for a moment longer before kissing her shoulder again and flipping her over. He dragged her hips up, entering her again in one swift stroke. She wrapped her arms around his pillow, burying her face in it again, and arched back against him as he started pounding into her.

Soon she lost herself to the rhythm of his thrusts, his warm calloused hands on her hips and his voice rasping how good she felt. Another wave of pleasure rippled through her body and she vaguely registered a long growl behind her as Jon's hips faltered and his fingers dug into her skin.

When they'd both recovered from their peaks, they kissed lazily and tenderly as she lay in his arms, happily pretending she could stay there forever.

 


End file.
